


A Place to Rest Your Wings

by Lazchan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 08:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18687616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: A little glimpse of Yuri through the younger years with his grandfather.





	A Place to Rest Your Wings

**Author's Note:**

> We are now able to post our fics for Okarei! I had a good time writing this, because I adore Yuri. :)

Yuri's breath steamed in the cold air of the house; his mother was late again and she was the only allowed to fix the heater so that it was warm in the house. He wasn't tall enough  _ or _ old enough and it annoyed him, even more than being alone. It wasn't as if it was unusual that his mother was gone again. He just wished that she had taken him to his grandpa's before she left this time.

 

She had left him a note, but he couldn't read it yet, only puzzle out a few of the letters. The only thing he understood was "Mama". He held it in his hands, then balled it up and tossed it at the waste bin, scowling. She didn't care, she didn't  _ think _ that he was only four years old and needed an adult in his life, one that didn't run away at every opportunity to try and make herself famous.  He wanted his grandpa, who would have a fresh plate of piroshki and hot tea. 

 

As if his thoughts about his grandpa had summoned him, there was a knock on the door before his grandpa let himself in, holding out a hand and smiling widely at Yuri. "Come on, little Yuratchka. You're going to stay with me for a little while." Yuri was too busy gathering his small suitcase that he had already filled in anticipation of such good luck that he missed the sad look on his grandpa's place as he took in the small, chilled room and how he grabbed the note that had missed the waste bin, shoving it into his pocket. 

 

Once he had his bag in hand, Yuri didn't hesitate as he took his grandpa's hand. His mother would be back eventually, but for now, he found that he didn't actually care how long she took this time. He was going to what he considered  _ home _ . 

 

It wasn't a long trip to get to his grandpa's house, but Yuri was quiet during the trip, wondering if it would be the same situation there as it had been with his mother. A space on the couch, a sense of temporary accommodations… only his grandpa's pleased, secretive looks had Yuri in any state of calm. 

 

The first surprise was when they arrived at his grandpa's apartment and the rickety exterior didn't give any hint to the warmth that lay inside. 

 

"This is for me?" he asked in amazement, while his grandfather gave him a hesitant smile, standing in front of the open door. It was a room  _ just for him _ , with no one else to share it. Resting on top of worn covers was a soft looking stuffed cat, bright orange with tiger stripes down its fur. It was the coolest looking thing ever and he dropped his suitcase and grabbed it, holding it to his chest, before giving his grandpa a fierce hug around the knees. "Thank you, grandpa." 

 

"A child should have things he loves," his grandpa patted the top of his head. "Now, let's put away your clothes and items and we will go and buy the ingredients for piroshki, what do you say?" 

 

Yuri pulled away and with utmost care, he put the cat in his sweater and zipped up the coat, so only the head popped out. "So he's not alone," he explained seriously, then worked methodically at putting away the few personal items he hadn't wanted to leave behind. 

 

His grandpa took his hand and smiled down at him. "Alright, Yurochka. Let's get some ingredients for the best piroshkis in Russia and then you'll see what other surprises your old grandpa has in surprise for you."

 

It wasn't enough to fully distract Yuri from the mother that had abandoned him, but it was a start. 

 

~

 

Over the weeks, Yuri slowly integrated into life at his grandpa's and as he had promised, there was more than one surprise in store for him. 

 

The one that Yuri loved the best and would love for years were the ice skates and lessons that were started that year. 

 

It would be the gift that defined his pathway in life, even when it took him away from his grandpa's home and to Yakov Feltsman's rink in St. Petersburg. 

 

"But...you'll let me call all the time, right?" Yuri demanded. The plush cat was still with him, as it had been for the last six years. He knew he was old enough to stay in the dorms and it wasn't like he would be entirely  _ alone _ , but he wasn't with his grandpa and that was going to hurt. He wanted to skate better and be the best faster and he couldn't do it in Moscow. Yakov was the best and trained the best; that was what Yuri wanted and needed. 

 

He just didn't want to leave Moscow and his grandpa. 

 

"Why do you think you have all those phone cards?" His grandpa gave him a quick hug. "Now, come and hurry inside, your other gift is waiting for you and we don't want to keep it waiting." 

 

Yuri gave him a suspicious look, but he followed easily enough into the small room that would be his own for the next several years while he trained extensively at a nearby rink. His jaw dropped when the small kitten looked up to him and gave what had to be the world's most indignant meow. Yuri immediately started to grin. "She's  _ awesome _ ." 

 

His grandpa had to laugh. "You know, she did that when she saw me walk past her cage?" he asked. "I knew that she was the one for you. What are you going to name her?"

 

And Yuri, will all the English he absorbed from comics and television, had the perfect name for her. He took the cat in his arms, who looked almost smug. "Puma Tiger Scorpion," he said proudly.

 

His grandpa looked pained for a moment, before stroking the top of the cat's head. "Since she is family, I will call her Potya."

 

Yuri wrinkled his nose, but it was a lot easier to say. "Yeah…." he mumbled. As great as it was to finally skate on the novice level and be trained and have a cat of his own, he didn't want to leave his grandpa and it hit him all at once. This wasn't like leaving the place he shared with his mother. This was leaving his home behind and he wasn't sure if it was all worth it. 

 

"You know how proud I am of you, my brave Yurochka?" he asked solemnly. "I cannot wait to see what other amazing things you can do on your ice skates. You are meant to be a star and I know that you will outshine all of your competitors. Even if I am not there, training in your rink with you, I am only a phone call away." It wasn't a simple drive to the rink anymore; even a train ride could get long and expensive if he did it too often. 

 

Yuri wiped away tears, angry at himself for crying when he had asked for this opportunity. "I… I know," he muttered, trying to calm himself down with the help of the purring cat in his arms. "I'm just going to miss you." 

 

His grandpa gave him a careful hug. "You will always be my special Yurochka," he promised. "No matter how far you wander from home, it will always be there for you whenever you need to rest."

 

~

 

He needed the reminder after long practice days when his feet were aching and he wanted nothing more than to run home and forget about skating altogether. Being the greatest figure skater there ever was was harder than it was in his dreams, especially when stacked against skaters that were older and more experienced than he was. 

 

He wasn't afraid of hard work and was  _ always  _ eager to show off his skills to his grandpa. When he came home with the first medal he had won in his hands, his grandpa was waiting for him. There was a tall case in the main room, with shelves with pegs to hold more than one or two medals. 

 

He had to work hard to fill the case and bring back every medal and the prizes that came with it, home. He wanted to show his grandpa that every sacrifice was worth it. Home would always be waiting. 

  
  



End file.
